


Shift

by orphan_account



Category: jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Possession, antisepticeye, bwah, demon, halloween fic, tw choking, tw knives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 13:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8447917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A random call wakes Mark from his sleep. It's Jack. But he isn't like himself.





	

Getting a call at three o clock in the morning was strange and sudden. The blasting of his phone right next to his ear shoved him out of a rock hard sleep, and he scooped his phone up, saw that the caller was Jack, slid right, and held the phone to his ear.

It wasn't the most unusual thing for Jack to call Mark at late times. Seven hours was a huge time difference between L.A. and Dublin, so it usually went that if one was in bed, the other was wide awake. Regardless, Mark was still tired, and little peeved, if he was honest. 

"Hey," Mark said groggily, "what's up?"

"...Um...Mark?" 

The sound of Jack's voice sobered Mark up instantly. He sat up fully, reaching over to his bedside table to click the lamp on. The way he said Mark's name. Something about it sounded a little off. Nasally, like he'd been crying. It didn't sound right.

"Jack? Are you all right?" Mark asked cautiously. There were a few long seconds of labored breathing from Jack's end. Mark assumed that Jack was absolutely _not_ all right, but what else could he have said?

"I don't know man. I don't--" Jack let out a huff of breath. "I don't..know. I don't...I don't think I am."

His voice sounded so weak on the phone. He definitely sounded like he'd been crying recently. The words came out rough, and he was clearly sniffling between words. When was the last time Mark had seen Jack cry? Heard Jack cry? Months. Maybe even a year. This was something serious. Mark could just tell.

"What's going on?"

Another, longer pause. Jack choked up and had to clear his throat before speaking again. "I don't really know?" He took in a short, shaky breath. "I've been feeling constantly sick for no reason at all. I haven't been leaving the house like, at all. I've been hearing things, and-and I've been seeing things...I've been...I've been... _feeling_ things." He put special emphasis on the word 'feeling'. Like he was disgusted with himself for feeling anything. For feeling? Why would Jack emphasize that he'd been having emotions? Surely, they couldn't be pleasant ones, but couldn't he just say he'd been feeling awful instead of leaving it so vague?

"Well," Mark started, not really sure how to help, "Have you eaten recently? I mean, usually when I'm sick it's just that I've forgotten to--"

"Can I come over?" Jack blurted out suddenly. Mark was shocked silent for a few seconds at the bluntness of his voice. His request. Could he come over?

"Over?"

"Please, Mark?" Jack sounded absolutely desperate. His voice was withering down and turning into sobs. "Signe's been gone with family and she isn't due back for a week and I really.... _really_ don't wanna be in the house by myself..." Jack let out a sob, but was cut off by a cough. He held the phone away while he hacked, but Mark could still hear Jack coughing like no one he had ever heard before. A twinge of unease settled in the bottom of Mark's stomach. Something wasn't right. Not even remotely right.

When Jack stopped coughing, Mark said, "Uh, of course you can come over." Even if 'over' meant thousands of miles away and across an ocean. "Do you...I can get you a plane ticket."

"No, I can do it on my own. Thanks...though..." He sucked in another heavy breath. "I'm sorry for waking you up."

"No, no, it's fine. Don't worry, I'll fall right back asleep. I..." What could he even say? "I hope you feel better."

"See you tomorrow Mark," Jack said quietly. The line then went silent.

Mark slowly set his phone back on the side table, unsure of what just went down. Jack was coming over, tomorrow. Because...because he wasn't feeling like himself?

He didn't sound like himself either, Mark thought as he padded to the bathroom. He passed Chica as he walked down the hallway, who was soundly sleeping. She always slept like a rock at night. Mark flicked the light on and stared at his reflection. Tired eyes. Deep set frown. Greasy red hair messily swept to the side.

He couldn't quite place it, but there was something more about that short conversation with Jack that left him feeling strange. It felt like more than some random bout of anxiety. Jack sounded legitimately scared. And what was that about seeing things and hearing things? Things like what?

Mark sighed. He splashed some water on his face and went back into his bedroom, turning on the light. There was no way he'd be getting any more sleep tonight. Might as well get something done.

***

Mark was confused enough over the conversation he and Jack had on the phone yesterday. With Jack sounding so frightened and sick.

But he was even more confused when the knock on his door was revealed to be Jack, smiling and bright.  
"Hey...Mark." Why was there a hesitation there? As if Jack had forgotten his name?

"Jack?" Mark asked, his hand holding the doorframe. He saw that Jack was holding an overnight bag in his hand, stuffed enough that the seams could pop. His gauges were in again. Mark toyed with a stray thread on the hem of his shirt. "I could've picked you up from the airport, you know."

"Nah, it's fine. I didn't want to trouble you." Jack stepped forward and let himself inside. Mark closed the door once he was in.

"Your hair," Mark commented when he noticed the new color. "It's different."

"Yeah," Jack said shortly as he stepped through the house. He looked around before uncertainly making his way down the hallway with Mark trailing behind. "Darker."

"Looks cool."

Jack only nodded, flinging his bag into the bed in the spare room. He sat on it, and bounced a little up and down, testing the bed or something. Then he looked up and gave another smile that sent a chill down Mark's spine. It was such a shift from last night. Last night on the phone, he sounded like nothing less but a scared child in need of an adult to lead him through the dark. Today, he acted as if the reason he was here was never stated, that he just came for a visit. It didn't feel right.

Nothing about Jack right now seemed normal.

"So what do you wanna do?" Jack asked. He raised from the bed and stood there, shifting back and forth on his feet.

"Uh, I dunno. We could see a movie? Dinner maybe? Carve pumpkins or something?"

"Oh yeah! It is getting close to Halloween isn't it? And actually, I've been wanting to see that Don't Breathe movie for a while. I heard it's good but I haven't got around to it. Could we see it today and pick up some pumpkins on the way back?"

"Uh, yeah.." Mark said as Jack walked past him out of the room. Just as he did, Mark's phone buzzed in his pants pocket. He pulled it out and saw that he had gotten a message. It was from Arin. **Is Jack at your place?**

Wait, so he had talked to Arin today too? Did he swing by the office? Mark furrowed his brows as he slid his phone up to call. 

"Jack visited you?" Mark said when Arin picked up.

"Yeah, he did. It was fucking weird."

Mark glanced behind him. Jack was sitting in a kitchen chair, staring down at his phone, tapping. "Did he tell you he was coming?"

"No, he just showed up. And, you know, we were excited because we hadn't seen him in a while right? It was like, nice surprise."

"Right."

"Okay, so, something's up with Jack. And we don't know what it is, but everyone can totally feel it. Dan went to hug him but he actually fucking pulled away. And he told me later that Jack just didn't seem right. Like he had this weird vibe that just made everyone all quiet and weird."

Mark looked behind him again. This time, Jack was looking right at him, head cocked to the side and looking curious. It made Mark feel as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. His ears burned, and he quickly ended the call with an, "I gotta go."

Mark walked into the kitchen where Jack was sitting. Their eyes never broke contact.

"Wanna go see that movie now? And maybe dinner? I'll pay."

Mark swallowed, then nodded. "Sure.."

Jack clapped once and stood. "Sweet. I'll be in the car." With that, he left the kitchen, and the front door shut with a soft, deliberate click behind him.

Mark dialed Arin again. He picked up after one ring. "Hey."

"What was that about? Why'd you go so suddenly?" Arin asked.

_Jack was watching._ For some reason, he didn't say that. It sounded too weird, to say that about one of his best friends. "Bad timing. So, Jack's staying with me for a week. What do you think?"

Arin didn't answer right away. "I don't know. Maybe he's just sick. But just...watch out. Okay?"

Mark nodded slowly, then hung up, feeling his hand start to shake. _Just watch out. Okay?_

***

The movie was good. Scarier than Mark liked to admit. It really got him. He walked out of that theatre feeling sore because he'd been so tense throughout the entire show. Very well done. Definitely lived up to its marketing.

Jack, however, didn't seem too perturbed about it. 

"That movie was nuts," Mark remarked, trying to create some kind of conversation. Jack was in the passenger seat, buckling up. He stopped when Mark addressed him. He looked kind of dazed, like he was just jerked out of some other world. For a second, he actually looked scared of Mark. But it went away so quickly, that Mark wasn't sure he'd seen it at all.

"Eh." Jack stuck his buckle in its slot and settled back in his seat, staring ahead. "I've seen worse."

Mark's heart skipped a beat as he gripped the steering wheel. "Oh."

***

The first night with Jack in the house was nothing short of unsettling.

Mark had been tossing and turning all night, throwing the covers off of himself and then having to reach back and bring them around his chin again. He could barely get his eyes to shut that night for more than fifteen minutes before he either thought he heard a noise, or straight up _felt_ like something was wrong. Like something was watching him. And for some reason, the feeling was so thick and strong, it actually drove Mark out of his bed.

He didn't quite know where he was walking to until he was there, hand on the door handle and twisting as quietly as possible. 

The door creaked a little as it opened a few inches. He peeked in, and saw Jack's still form laying on the guest bed, facing away from the door on his side. He was sleeping soundly. Mark gave a little relieved sigh, and shut the door again, turning around to go back to his room. Muscles that he hadn't realized had been tensed up suddenly relaxed as he tip toed back to his own room. What did he think Jack was doing? Watching him? Whatever. 

He was almost at his own room, halfway in, when he heard Chica bark. Loudly. Any other day, Mark would've jumped out of his skin. But this time, he froze in his tracks. His heart nearly stopped beating in his chest. Chica never barked that loud at night. She never barked at night period.

"Mark."

He was sure his eyes were popping out of his head at this point as he struggled to see in the darkness. Mark turned around slowly.

Jack was standing there, at the end of the hallway, right next to the guest bedroom door. All Mark could see was Jack's silhouette, but he was sure that he was staring right at him, burning holes straight through the back of his head. He was perfectly still. No, more than still. Stiff. Robotic.

"It's late," Jack said, "you should be sleeping."  
He returned into his bedroom.

Mark felt all the energy drain from his body all at once. He almost fell into his room, shutting the door and twisting the lock. He slid down the door and held his knees to his chest, trying to grasp what just happened.

He crawled into bed and pulled the covers up as far as they could go.

Another night he wouldn't be getting any sleep.  
***

The next morning.

It was definitely an event.

Jack was there at the dining table when he woke up, chowing down on a bowl of cereal, like nothing had ever happened the night before. When he noticed Mark, he smiled through his chewing. Flippant. Ignorant. Dismissive.

Mark sat in a chair as Jack dispensed his bowl in the sink.

"Okay, what is up with you?" The words wanted to stay in his throat, but he pushed them out, and they landed sloppily on the tabletop between them. Jack didn't seem to understand. Mark kept pushing through. "You've been acting weird and creepy and I'm not going to keep you here for a week with you acting so unlike yourself."

Jack's eyes seemed to flash as he looked down at the table. "Why would you think I'm not acting like myself?"

Mark scoffed. "Don't you pull that bull Jack! You know you haven't been right. You called me, in _tears,_ begging to come over because you were afraid to be in the house by yourself. But now you're..." He made a sweeping gesture with his hand, indicating Jack. "You're acting like none of that happened. Like you weren't crying the other night, scared out of your mind."

Jack gave a dismissive sound. "Oh, yeah. _That._ That wasn't me."

That definitely stopped Mark in his tracks. "W-wai-what?"

Jack looked up, scowling. "I said: That. Wasn't. Me." He stood up from the table fast enough to rattle the chair he was sitting on, and he turned and went into the kitchen. Mark looked on, confusion melding with fear swirling around in his chest.

"The guy you were talking to the other night was nothing short of idiotic," Jack said as he dug around in one of the counter drawers. "Childish."

"Jack, you aren't making sense." Mark stood up too, suddenly even more uneasy as he'd been the night before. "I just want to know what's going on with you."

"I'm fine," Jack said without turning around.

Mark took a step forward. "Jack, you have to listen to me--"

Jack whirled around, and Mark saw that he was brandishing a butcher knife. Jack sped forward, and suddenly he was pinning Mark against the wall by his neck with one hand, holding the blade of the knife under his chin with the other. Mark tried to scream and wriggle out from under his grip, but it was cast iron.

"No. _You_ need to listen to _me."_ That wasn't him. The voice was too deep. Too sinister. It almost sounded auto tuned. "If it wasn't for the fact that Jack was already on the _plane_ when I took over, then I wouldn't _be_ here. Stuck for a week. With you."

Mark tried to pry the hand off his neck, feeling it constrict with every strained breath. He should've been able to pull him off too. Jack and Mark had fooled around before. Arm wrestles, and stuff like that. Mark was always the superior. But this time, it felt like a metal arm was clamped on his throat, immovable. He would've been terrified enough of that fact alone, if it wasn't for the other fact that the blue of Jack's eyes bled into black, replacing everything human about them. A smile spread on Jack's face. An evil, wide grin. Unnatural.

_"They said my name. It's their fault. Your fault."_ Mark felt sharp claws dig into his neck, then the blood that trickled down. Jack looked on in amusement as he continued to talk in a low growl of a voice. "You could've stopped it. But you only _watched."_

Black dots started to dance at the edge of Mark's vision. He needed to do something now, or he'd surely be killed. What could he do? Everything was out of his reach. Everything--

Mark's eyes flitted down and saw that Jack's stomach was unguarded.

He brought his knee up hard. Jack released his grip and reeled back with an unholy and inhuman scream. Mark then sucked in what breath he could before he dashed off down the hallway.

_"NO!"_ Jack said with a hiss, as if his voice had been recorded and layered on top of itself. That wouldn't stop him for long. He wouldn't be far behind.

Mark was in his room, dragging Chica into it, locking the door and throwing himself into his closet and locking that too faster than anything he had ever done before. He was dialing the phone. Who was he dialing? He could barely see, everything was a blur. He hoped he was calling the police.

Much to his relief, he had. "L.A.P.D. what is your emergency?"

"Please!" He screamed. Then he was aware that he was supposed to be hiding, and screaming like that would be a real dumbass thing to do. So he forced himself to keep his voice down. "Ple-please. He's in my house. He's trying to kill me."

The operator's voice came through the line, calm, smooth. It was a woman. "Who is trying to kill you sir?"

"My..." What? Friend? Whatever that was out there, it was not his friend. It was something else entirely. "He....I don't know who it is! But he's...he tried to kill me. Please help me."

"Can you give me the address of where are you sir?"

Mark spit the address into the phone. He felt his hand shaking, barely able to hold the phone to his ear as the operator told him to stay calm, what happened, what's your name, how's the weather, anything to get him off the sound of Jack banging around inside his home. Mark wiped the falling tears from his cheeks. 

Suddenly, the line was cut silent. Mark looked at his phone. "What? No!" He dialed again. The voicemail track came on. Was that even possible for a police station?

"Hello? Hello!" Panic came back as he dialed and dialed again. "Please answer!"

After a long silence of holding the phone desperately to his ear, someone answered.

"They aren't coming."

***

When Mark woke up, he was by his kitchen, slumped over on the dining room table. There was no light coming from outside. It was late. When he lifted his head, it hurt, like something was clanging around in there against his skull. He felt sick, weak, cold, scared out of his mind. He didn't feel in control.

Mark grabbed his phone out of his pocket, and dialed the number.

"Hey, Mark," Arin said groggily, "what's up?"

"...Um...Arin?"

Deja vu overcame Mark as his eyes landed on Jack's lifeless body on his kitchen floor, eyes gray and mouth stuck open in a scream.

This didn't perturb him. He knew what was happening now. 

Too little. Too late.

**Author's Note:**

> Well here we are. Its a bit late but hither you are. Do you have any thoughts? Criticisms? Praise? I'd love to hear from you.


End file.
